Thursday, December 30, 2010

Another Christmas has come and gone, and I'd have to say this is the first year that the kids were excited for it. We created anticipation for the holidays by making holiday cookies, decorating the house, and having the kids help choose what items to regift from our crap box.

I don't know how much the kids understand the whole Santa Claus story, but they seemed to grasp the basic concept: elderly men with white beards in shopping malls across the country bring presents to your house after taking your hard earned money with an overpriced photo package.

We had the kids write letters to Santa, and I found out that Macy's had Santa mailboxes at their stores. So I took the kids to Macy's and had them deliver their wish list to Santa. A few days later, I got the mail and the letters were returned to us. I thought the kids were going to get a generic Santa letter back, but all they got was a big return to sender lump of coal.

When the kids wondered why they got the letters back, I wasn't too sure what to say. I didn't want to tell them that Santa did not receive their letters. So I quickly thought on my feet and told them that the letters were returned because Santa thought they were very bad this year. Whew! Good thinking!

On Christmas Eve, we told the kids that they would have to check their stockings in the morning to see if Santa left them anything. When the morning came, it was cute to see the kids slightly curious to see if there were any presents in their stockings. As they poked the stocking, big smiles came across their faces. They dumped out all of their presents on the floor and said with surprise, "I didn't know Santa did his shopping at the Target $1 bin racks!"

The kids were overwhelmed with all of the gifts they had to open. Andrew got a ton of Cars toys, and Emma got a ton of Disney Princess toys. And after ten minutes, they each picked out their favorite Christmas toy: Andrew picked his empty Cars toy boxes, and Emma picked her empty Disney Princess toy boxes. Next year, I'll just do my shopping at Public Storage.

A few days after Christmas, we were at Barnes and Nobles. Lisa was reading Emma a Disney Princess book. At the end of the book, the princess asks, "What do you wish for?" Lisa asked Emma what her wish was. Emma thought for a few seconds and answered, "I wish for another Christmas day!"

Well, Emma...your wish will be fulfilled in 365 days which should hopefully be enough time for Mommy and Daddy's bank accounts to be full-filled too.

Monday, December 27, 2010

Last week, I asked what to do about the kids smacking themselves on top of their heads when they get angry. Fifty-seven percent suggested we buy the kids a couple of hard hats and oven mitts which is a great idea since we can use their Christmas cash for these safety accessories. Twenty-eight percent took a more pragmatic approach and said there's no need to worry about this behavior, but we should explain to the kids why this is a bad thing to do.

Since I'm a selfish bastard and using Emma's and Andrew's Christmas cash towards a blu-ray microwave (1080p popcorn!), Lisa and I have decided to keep on emphasizing to the kids why it is a bad thing to hit yourself. I understand that this behavior stems from the inability to articulate your feelings since it is so complicated and layered to explain why you are so upset that your brother took your honey graham cracker. I don't know how much longer the kids will continue to display this behavior, but I hope it ends soon because they are soon becoming much more stronger than their Olive Oyl armed Daddy.

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I can hardly believe another year has passed. Not because it went so fast. I'm just a terrible gauge of time. Next month will be a big month for the kids because we enrolled them in full day preschool in anticipation of me going back to work in February. It's a nice little preschool that is conveniently located just a block away from our house. For the first month, we plan to have the kids there from 9a-3p. And then when I go back to work, they'll have to stay there from around 8:15a-3:30p.

It feels a little weird for me to have the kids go to preschool since I've been home with them for almost six months. The kids will be almost 3 1/2 at the end of February, so we think they are old enough for this transition to full-day preschool. But there's still a part of me that second guesses this.

What do you think? Is this a good thing for the kids? Is this a bad thing? Or is my paranoia stemming from my own neurotic inadequacies as a human being? Not that I have a self-esteem problem (Do you like me?)...

Sunday, December 26, 2010

If spending the holidays with drunk and smelly lactose-intolerant relatives overdosing on cheap egg nog has not gotten to you yet, sit back and try to relax because it's time for another edition of...Crazy Grandma Ichikawa Storytime!

One of Andrew's favorite presents that he received from Auntie Santa Anne (pretzel maven) is his Lightning McQueen remote control car. But it's not your standard remote control car because this car can drift. If you push and turn the control at the same time, Lightning McQueen will spin around in circles. Pretty cool...unless you're Crazy Grandma.

You see, Andrew was playing with his car at the only place inside the house that doesn't have carpet: the kitchen. Since Andrew can't maneuver the car well, he was driving it around the kitchen like a group of elderly Japanese women trying to park at your local Target. He was crashing, bumping, and spinning his car against every wall and object in the kitchen. This was making Crazy Grandma quite...well...crazy.

She didn't have the heart to tell Andrew not to play with his toy in the kitchen, but she also did not want him to wreck the walls and the paint. So she came up with a brilliant idea. She decided to tape something on the front of Lightning McQueen that would prevent it from damaging the kitchen. Something soft. Something absorbent. Something like a...Kotex pad.

You know how they say a picture is worth a thousand words? Here are three thousand words...

I am speechless...much like Lightning McQueen because he has a gigantic maxipad over his mouth.

Friday, December 24, 2010

On the 10th day of Christmas, our twins gave to us...Ten drunken SantasNine gifts a-flamingEight bumps and bruises Seven snotty ornaments Six broken windows Five stinky poo-poos Four rainbow'd walls Three hours of screaming Two bloody noses And a dead mouse in an artificial tree.

On the 11th day of Christmas, our twins gave to us...Eleven squad cars sireningTen drunken SantasNine gifts a-flaming Eight bumps and bruises Seven snotty ornaments Six broken windows Five stinky poo-poos Four rainbow'd walls Three hours of screaming Two bloody noses And a dead mouse in an artificial tree.

On the 12th day of Christmas, our twins gave to usTwelve to life in prisonEleven squad cars sireningTen drunken Santas Nine gifts a-flaming Eight bumps and bruises Seven snotty ornaments Six broken windows Five stinky poo-poos Four rainbow'd walls Three hours of screaming Two bloody noses And a dead mouse in an artificial tree.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

On the 7th day of Christmas, our twins gave to us,Seven snotty ornamentsSix broken windowsFive stinky poo-poosFour rainbow'd wallsThree hours of screamingTwo bloody nosesAnd a dead mouse in an artificial tree.

On the 8th day of Christmas, our twins gave to us...Eight bumps and bruisesSeven snotty ornamentsSix broken windowsFive stinky poo-poosFour rainbow'd wallsThree hours of screamingTwo bloody nosesAnd a dead mouse in an artificial tree.

On the 9th day of Christmas, our twins gave to us...Nine gifts a-flamingEight bumps and bruisesSeven snotty ornaments Six broken windows Five stinky poo-poos Four rainbow'd walls Three hours of screaming Two bloody noses And a dead mouse in an artificial tree.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Since we are currently up in Northern California celebrating the holidays for the next few weeks, the updates will be sporadic -- as they tend to be nowadays. But I thought for this week, I would share with you the holiday card we sent out this year to our family and friends who know how weird we are.

We mailed out a little parody of The 12 Days of Christmas based upon our lives with the crazy twins. So for the rest of this week, I'll be posting the drawings I did for this little holiday booklet. Let's begin...

THE 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

On the 1st day of Christmas, our twins gave to us...A dead mouse in our artificial tree.

On the 2nd day of Christmas, our twins gave to us...Two broken nosesAnd a dead mouse in an artificial tree.

On the 3rd day of Christmas, our twins gave to us...Three hours of screamingTwo bloody nosesAnd a dead mouse in an artificial tree.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

I've been introducing the kids to a bunch of songs from various vintage Disney films on YouTube. The only problem I've run into so far is an accidental click which made the kids think The Evolution of Dance is a number from Bedknobs and Broomsticks.

One song that they really enjoy is "Jolly Holiday" from the movie Mary Poppins. As the kids watched the movie, they started to associate certain animals from the animated barnyard scene with people. For instance, the little lambs that jump are Emma and Andrew, and the big, brawny horse is Daddy.

Take a look at the video to see which animal they designated as Mommy...

Monday, December 13, 2010

Last week, I asked whether it was appropriate to buy your child a $500 gift like an ipad as a holiday gift. I don't know if Steve Jobs has anything to worry about, but eighty-five percent of you gave a resounding NO to my question.

I would have to agree that it is absolutely ridiculous to buy your child an expensive gift like an ipad for a holiday gift. At that age, they should be weaving wicker baskets and burning worms with a magnifying glass. But what is not ridiculous is to buy an ipad for someone old enough and deserving of it. Someone who tries to keep an entertaining blog about parenting. Someone who would buy a ipad for himself if not for the outrageous price of purchasing pull-up diapers at Costco. Someone who has been taking care of three year old twins and sacrificing his promising middle-management career in failed television pilots.

If you know anyone who fits this description, please...PLEASE...let me know.

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The kids are at an age where they are able to communicate their thoughts and feelings through words at a much more sophisticated level than before. Granted, this leap in communication isn't that great when you compare it to screaming, shrieking, and spitting. But it's a pretty big step in the right direction.

The one thing that the kids seem a little flustered with is anger. Sometimes they can't quite express with words why they are angry. Thus the hitting, the pushing, the screaming, the shouting, the gang war, and urinating on the floor to designate your territory.

Usually when I break up a fight, there are screams and pouty faces -- mostly from me. But the kids are now doing something different: hitting themselves on top of their heads. It's as if they're telling me if they can't hit another person, they're going to hit themselves. Doesn't make sense to me, but a lot that they do doesn't make sense to me.

So what do you think? Is this normal behavior? How do I stop it? Do I need to start saving up for therapy sessions?

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Between all of the hitting and pushing and gunfire, I try to teach the kids to be caring and compassionate to each other. It is a special and unique experience for them (and us) to grow and develop as individuals with an eternal playmate and friend. And sometimes it just all goes to hell and it's no holds barred.

While Emma was playing with her dolls, she bent down to pick something up and hit her face on the coffee table. I grabbed an ice pack, and tried to comfort her while she shrieked toddler profanities into my ears.

Andrew came up to me and said, "What happened to Emma?"

I explained, "Emma got an ouchy on her face."

"How?" inquired Andrew.

"Emma bent down to pick up a toy and hit her face on the table. And look," I said pointing to her cheek. "She's getting a little bruise over there."

"Wow!" said Andrew with amazement.

"You know what would make her feel better?" I asked Andrew.

"What?"

"You should give Emma a hug to help make her ouchy go away," I told him.

Andrew looked at Emma's tears and said, "Nah. That's okay."

He then proceeded to take Emma's dolls and run them over with his cars.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

It has been awhile since I have updated you about our potty endeavors, so I am happy to announce the kids are potty trained and wearing underpants..and the occasional spanx. Emma transitioned into underpants a week before Thanksgiving; Andrew started his underpants a week after Thanksgiving.

We promised the kids that when they filled up their potty chart with stickers, we would have a potty party at Chuck E Cheese. I figured that was an appropriate place since their pizza tastes like crap. Both kids had a great time and we spent enough money to win an entire bucket full of tickets which we redeemed to get a super ball and a dead roach. No wait. Just a super ball. The roach was on the pizza.

Although the kids wear underpants most of the day, I still put them into pull-ups when they go out and when they go to bed. Emma has been really good about going to the potty, and for the past two months, I could count on one hand the number of accidents she has had. As for Andrew, I'd say his success rate is about 85% right now. And unfortunately for me, the other 15% consists of the number of times he has pooped in his underpants.

For those of you with twins, this is what I learned while potty training the kids:

1) Immediate gratification works. I started out with a potty chart that showed them if they received enough stickers, they would get a prize. Although they would talk about the prizes, it didn't make them any more motivated to use the potty than before. But once I started giving them treats right after they went to the potty, then that made all the difference in the world. The only regret is that I probably should not have started to award them with whole cheesecakes.

2) Copy cats. Twins like to copy each other, and this can be a big pain with potty training. As soon as one kid sat on the potty, the other kid had to go too. More often than not, you're able to make the other child wait their turn, but occasionally you have to rush to the other toilet. But the copying also works in your favor because I noticed Andrew took more of an interest in the potty once Emma started to master it.

3) The bathroom will be your new best friend. With all of the waiting and pooping and false alarms, I felt like I was spending more time in the bathroom than any other room in the house. You just need to make sure you have all of your essential supplies ready in your bathroom: extra toilet paper, plenty of soap, paper towels, sanitary wipes, books, and a little compost pile.

We never rushed or pressured the kids to be potty trained, but once they turned three, we decided it was time. Emma probably took a month to be trained, and Andrew a little more. I know Crazy Grandma kept on telling me that I was potty trained before I was two, but she also said I was reading the San Francisco Chronicle before I was three. Every kid is different as is every parent. Do what you think is best, and when you're ready, get ready to touch your child's poop in ways you've never done before.

I usually try to intervene before Emma hits Stage 3 or 4, but there are times where my presence makes no difference at all. This is probably because Emma's anger is catalyzed by something I said or did.

Although I do raise my voice and get angry at the kids, there are times when I try to do the opposite and try to calm them down by being calm myself. For instance, this morning Emma and Andrew got into a fight over some toys. Emma began shouting at Andrew. Emma began throwing the toys. Emma began hitting the toys. And it was time for me to step in.

I carried Emma away from Andrew and tried to get her to talk. You could tell by her evil eyes that she was very angry about something. She began to slap the top of her head, and I tried to get her to stop by gently hugging her. And as it is with most all girls when I hug them, they push me away.

Again, I tried to calm Emma down by talking to her. "Emma, what's wrong?" I asked.

"I! Am! Angry!" she shouted as she punctuated each word with a slap to her head.

"If you tell me why you're angry, maybe we can make you feel better," I explained to her.

She continued to slap her head.

"Emma," I said. "Please stop hitting your head."

Slap, slap, slap.

"Emma. This is your last warning. You need to stop slapping your head!"

Slap, slap, slap.

I held Emma's arms down and brought her close to me. Although she was resisting, I used all of my manly strength to stop the slapping. As she continued to squirm and kick, I looked at her face and forcefully said, "Why are you so angry?!?"

"I DON'T REMEMBER WHY!" she screamed back at me.

Ah. At least I can relax with the knowledge that I have a typical girl.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Last week, I asked what we should do about nighttime demands from the kids. Forty-four percent of you gave us an answer that prompted us to go and purchase a nice plot out at Forest Lawn: we have fifteen more years of this, so get used to it. Right behind, thirty-three percent told us not to give in to any demands.

The nights have not been getting any easier, but they haven't been getting worse. We thought we solved our problem when we made sure the kids had and did everything they usually ask for at nighttime: a little lip balm ("My lips are chapped!"), a tissue on their nightstand ("Just in case I cry."), and one last stop at the potty ("I got to go make water, Miss Daisy!"). It worked for a few days, but after that, random demands stirred up again.

What we decided to do is to make sure they are comfortable and to reassure them that we will check on them later -- if there's nothing to watch on television. And when they do cry, we let them cry for a few minutes before we check on them. After a few checks, we turn down the monitor, toss a couple of pillows over our heads, and hope for the best.

...we need to buy more pillows...

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I read an article in the newspaper that said the number one requested holiday gift from kids between six and ten is the ipad. I find this outrageous on two counts: 1) Who would buy their kid who can't even count to 500 a $500 gift? 2) A more appropriate age spread should be between six and married Japanese men with twins in their late thirties.

When I was that age, I remember playing with blocks, Star Wars toys, and an occasional Ellen/Portia-like rendezvous with my sister's Barbie dolls. Maybe I'm becoming old fashioned, but I find it ridiculous to give your child a $500 gift when that $500 gift should really be your $500 gift (hint: Lisa, I'd like an ipad.).

What do you think? Do you think giving your young child a $500 gift is a good thing to do?

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Kids are messy eaters. No matter how many times I ask them not to stuff their pancakes in their pants, I inevitably find maple syrup on their butts.

Being at home with the kids by myself, there are times when you miss their misbehavior because you're cleaning up, doing the laundry, or closing multiple porn site ads on your laptop before your wife returns home.

After their snack, I started to tidy up the floor a little bit. While wiping up a trail of maple syrup to who knows where, I noticed some bits of food on the wall. It was all dried up and crusty so it must've been there a few days. I wasn't able to scratch it off with my finger, and even when I wet it with my saliva, the crust was still stubborn.

I grabbed an abrasive sponge from the kitchen and started to alternate between scrubbing the crust with a sponge and picking at it with my fingernails. It was a surprisingly slow process.

Emma came up to me and asked, "What are you doing, Daddy?"

"I'm cleaning the wall because someone put yucky bananas on it," I explained to Emma. "Did you do this?"

"No," said Emma. "Andrew did it."

A-ha! I knew it was Andrew because he's the banana eater.

"But it not banana," continued Emma. "It Andrew's boogies."

Immediately, I stopped picking at the crust with my fingers. "It's what?"

"Boogies!" Emma exclaimed with delight.

Andrew moseyed up and I asked him, "Andrew! Is this your boogie?"

"Yup," he said with no guilt, but a slight trace of delight.

"You don't put boogies on the wall!" I screamed as I began picking Andrew's boogies out of my fingernails. "Why did you do this?"

And Andrew had an answer. "I do it because Emma laugh and laugh and laugh because I put boogies on the wall."

As the kids looked at each other and started laughing about boogies, I lamented the fact that Andrew was going to join his Daddy as another laugh whore in the family.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Since I have been at stay-at-home dad for the past 3 1/2 months, I have learned a very valuable tool: how to tune the kids out. This is especially true during nap time because the kids will yell every excuse in the book to get our attention. The only words I don't ignore from them are: blood and intruder.

Recently when we put the kids to bed, Emma started screaming, "Come check on me!" She kept on saying it over and over again, so I turned the volume down on the monitor and continued to watch television. On the other hand, Lisa wanted to go upstairs to check on her. I told her to stay put and let Emma cry it out for a little bit.

Although the monitor was low, you could still hear the piercing demands and requests from our little baby girl. When "Come check on me" did not work, she started to scream, "I need a tissue!" This certainly makes sense since after crying for 5 minutes, you would need a tissue to wipe your face.

Once again, Lisa wanted to go upstairs, but I told her to wait.

When the tissue ploy did not work, Emma went to Plan C which was "Oh no! My sock came off!" I don't know how her sock magically came off by itself and how it was such a surprise to her, but it did. Now we were hearing a constant round of "Check on me!", "I need a tissue!", and "Oh no! My sock came off!"

Lisa couldn't stand it anymore and headed upstairs to check on Emma. At this point, I increased the volume on the baby monitor so I could hear what was happening.

After trying to calm Emma down, Emma had a new request since she had captured Lisa in the bedroom: Lie on the couch! We have a little loveseat in their bedroom, and Emma wanted Lisa to lie down on it.

Lisa asked Emma, "Why do you want me to lie on the couch for?"

Emma wrapped her arms around Lisa, gave her a big hug, and said, "Because I love you, Mommy!"

WHAT A MANIPULATOR! Seriously, I better watch out for this one when she's in high school. So of course, Lisa melted and went on the couch.

After a little while, Emma started to cry again. So wrapped-around-Emma's-little-finger Lisa went back to Emma's bed and said, "What's wrong, Little Emma?"

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

As if Emma's scientific mind about rainbows didn't amaze me, imagine my surprise and wonder when I found out that Andrew is bilingual! At first, I thought bilingual was some sort of Italian STD, but thankfully Lisa corrected me.

I have no idea where Andrew learned to speak another language. The only thing I can think of is that he happened to come across my foreign pornography collection.

But for those of you who doubt me, here is evidence of Andrew's ability to speak another language. I asked him to sing the song "It's A Small World" for me in Chinese, and he did! Or at least I think it's Chinese. The only Chinese word I know is "fortune cookie."

Monday, November 29, 2010

Last week, I asked what age you thought you were when you remembered your first childhood memories. All of the votes were pretty even, but thirty-three percent of you took the lead and said your first memories were when you were four years old. The ages of two and three were right behind with twenty-two percent each.

Personally, my first memories were probably between the ages of three and four. I do recall a childhood memory of myself crawling through a small hole, so that was either my birth or spelunking in Hawaii when I was nine. I hope it was spelunking...

It's weird to think that Emma and Andrew might have some life-lasting memories at the age they are at now. If they do, I have a feeling all they are going to remember is their Daddy looking frazzled and constantly mumbling, "Where's the beer?"

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The kids are going through another phase that is driving us crazy. After we tuck them into bed and leave their rooms, the next thirty to forty minutes is a constant bombardment of demands. They ask for tissue. They ask for chapstick. They ask to go to the bathroom. They ask for their sheets to be rearranged. It's like a Sprout version of Upstairs/Downstairs.

Our usual M.O. with them is to let them cry it out for a bit, and if they are still crying after five or ten minutes, we go see what they want. It would be great if they only had one request, but they usually have several requests. So Lisa and I end up going up and down the stairs in a huff. The only good that has come out of this ordeal is that our calves are really toned now.

We're not too sure what to do. On one hand, it would be really easy just to go to their room and give them what they want. If we did that, they'd probably be asleep in fifteen minutes. But since we don't want them to think that their crying is going to get our immediate attention, they sometimes don't fall asleep for an hour and Lisa and I end up being stressed and grumpy.

So what do you think? Give the kids immediate gratification? Continue doing what we're doing? Don't check on them at all? Buy earplugs?

Sunday, November 28, 2010

It is interesting to observe the kids to see how they solve problems. If Emma can't reach something underneath the sofa, she knows if she uses a ruler she might be able to get it. If Andrew can't see something in the dark, he knows a flashlight might help. If they see a toy they want in a holiday catalog, they know to ask Mommy for Daddy's wallet.

A more interesting solution that Andrew has come up with is his daily problem with Emma. Every day, there comes a point at which the kids are fighting over a toy or disagreeing about something. It usually ends with something thrown or someone hit; one time, someone was thrown.

But our ingenious son has come up with a brilliant solution to this problem. Whenever he is upset with something Emma has done, all he says now is, "I'm gonna sit on you, Emma!"

And voila! Emma gives up! Problem solved!

Of course there are times when Andrew actually sits on Emma, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's focus on the ingenuity of Andrew's thought process.

If you really think about it, Andrew is displaying the discipline of civil disobedience. Take a look at Gandhi. Or better yet, the civil rights movement. What Andrew is demonstrating is the process of a sit-in: You have a protester (i.e. Andrew) sitting down at a specific, meaningful location (i.e. Emma's ass), and the protester refuses to leave unless forcibly removed by the authorities (i.e. parents) or until their demand is met (i.e. the return of a Lightning McQueen car). Brilliant idea, Andrew!

Or on the other hand, Andrew has been watching a bunch Happy Days reruns on Nick at Night and might have got the idea of sitting on Emma from Fonz's catch phrase, "Sit on it."

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Ever since watching an episode of Sid the Science Kid and driving through West Hollywood, the kids are fascinated with rainbows. They can mumble their way through a song naming all of the colors, and they are especially excited if they see anything resembling a rainbow.

One day, the way the light was shining through the window, it created a little rainbow on the wall. I called the kids over to look at it, and they looked as giddy and excited as Japanese tourists at Disneyland.

Andrew got my attention and asked, "Daddy? What a rainbow?"

Interesting question, I thought. Do I tell the kids what a rainbow actually is or do I create some imaginary visual picture in their head to stimulate their little creative minds. I decided to go with latter.

"Well, my little lads." Okay. I didn't really call them "my little lads", but I thought it would be a better lead-in into my rainbow explanation. "I think rainbows are very special and magical. Some people think there are special presents at the end of a big rainbow. There are some people called leprechauns who think there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And Kermit the Frog thinks his Hollywood dreams are at the end of one."

And yes, I really did say the Kermit the Frog thing. Sometimes I throw in references for my own amusement. Give me a break...

After my explanation, Andrew looked more puzzled, but shrugged it off and started hitting the little rainbow on the wall.

As for Emma, she looked at me and said, "Daddy. I think rainbows are light that go through water drops."

WTF? Who the...what the...calling Bill Nye!

As much as I'd like to increase Emma's 529 plan, the truth is that Lisa had a talk with the kids about rainbows just before I did. So whereas Andrew ignored both of our explanations, Emma retained what Lisa said and basically told me, "You're a liar and Mommy's smarter."